


No Place Like Home

by thelooster



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 12:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3067652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelooster/pseuds/thelooster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been nine years since Clarke Griffin has been home, and a lot has changed- namely the fact that Bellamy Blake who tormented her throughout high school is now a cop. When Clarke's life is in shambles, can Bellamy help her pick up the pieces?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Memories and Speed Limits

**Author's Note:**

> Bellarke is one of my favorite OTPs, and I just loved the idea of Clarke being pulled over in her hometown, only to realize it was the very same Bellamy Blake who annoyed the crap out of her when she was in high school. Ideas followed, and now I've begun writing this piece of Bellarke trash. Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> (You can follow me on tumblr at ThatWasNerdy)

Clarke watched the exit signs grow farther and farther apart as she made the once-familiar drive back to her hometown in Southern Georgia. Clarke knew the route like the back of her hand from the countless road trips her family had taken when she was a child. Clarke's parents had instilled a love of travel in their daughter from an early age, and they had driven across the country in the attempt to visit all fifty states. With a pang of sadness that always accompanied her childhood memories, Clarke realized it had been nearly nine years since she had rumbled down these country roads.

Clarke and her mother, the esteemed Dr. Abby Griffin, had spent several years after Clarke's graduation from high school on rocky terms. The long stretches of radio silence between the two women were only punctuated by short, terse phone calls on special occasions – Clarke's birthday and Jesus's. After her father's death during her senior year, Clarke was broken. Jake Griffin and his daughter were as thick as thieves, and the sudden car accident had left Clarke feeling broken and alone. Abby tried her best to help her daughter mourn, but her own grief for her husband forced her to bury herself in her work. Clarke's bitterness at her mother's somewhat disappearance led Clarke to put her dreams of college and medical school on hold and go to Africa for a year-long program, which only served to widen the gap between them. The two stubborn women refused to admit that they both just missed each other, and it took extreme circumstances to bring them back together. After  _the incident_ , Clarke felt as if she had lost everyone, and there was only one person she could turn to. Clarke had sat on the floor of her apartment at Johns Hopkins with silent tears running down her face for two hours before finally dialing her mother's number. After a long and tearful reconciliation, Clarke had packed up her apartment and hit the road by dawn.

Remembering the shambles of the life she was leaving behind in Baltimore, Clarke unconsciously sped up. The dust billowing behind Clarke's ten-year-old Honda CR-V created a dense haze that blocked out most of her rearview window. Suddenly, Clarke could make out swirling blue lights peeking through. Glancing down at the 90 MPH mocking her from the speedometer, Clarke let out a curse and quickly drifted off to the right of the road.  _Shit, shit, shit! The last freaking thing I need right now is a ticket!_ Clarke drummed her fingers on the steering wheel as the cop slowly exited his car and began striding toward her. Feeling like a gazelle being stalked by a lion in the middle of Africa, Clarke ran through excuses, arguments, and likely scenarios she could employ to avoid punishment.  _Family emergency? No- too small of a town. He'd know my family. Broken speedometer? Come on, Griffin. Like_ that _one's ever worked._  The officer was just feet away and Clarke analyzed him in her side view mirror, trying to figure out the best plan of attack. Noticing the young, and incredibly hot (if she was being honest with herself), features of the cop, Clarke swallowed her pride, adjusted her shirt, and put on her best "hot blonde" face.  _Duty calls._  The cop finally stood next to her open window and crossed his arms.  _Holy shit. He's hot_ and _ripped!_

"Ma'am, do you know how fast you were going?" the officer asked Clarke with a disapproving tone and facial expression to match.

"Um… Too fast?" Clarke let out an uncharacteristic giggle.  _God, Clarke. Eight years of prestigious collegiate education and this is how you use it._ She rambled on. "You see, officer, I was just—Bellamy?!" In an instant, the act was dropped, and Clarke was left gaping at the now recognizable man from her past.

Bellamy stared blankly at the gorgeous woman in front of him trying to figure out how they knew each other.  _One of Octavia's friends? No. Someone from in town? Nah, Baltimore tag. Oh, shit. Have I slept with her?_ Finally, memories of swing sets and backyard barbecues and sleepovers poured through his conscious. "Oh my god! Clarke? What the hell are you doing here?" Bellamy forgot about the fact that he was supposed to be ticketing the idiot driver who was going 35 over the limit, and instead tried to remember the last time he had laid eyes on the one and only Clarke Griffin.  _God, she's even more beautiful than she was nine years ago._

" _Me?_  What the hell are  _you_  doing here? How in the world does the bad boy of ARK high school become a cop?" Clarke's eyes roamed over the man in front of her and tried to match the image with her best friend's cocky, douchebag older brother who tormented her throughout high school. Tried, and failed.

Bellamy let out a soft chuckle and rubbed his hand through his dark tousled hair, exposing more muscle as he did so. "Well, it's kind of a long story…" A blue pickup truck drove by, covering the pair in a cloud of dust and causing them both to have a sudden coughing fit. Once recovered, Bellamy continued, "…and this is hardly the place to have it. But, I'll tell you what, I'll let you off the hook for driving like a complete  _moron_ …" At this, Bellamy gave Clarke a pointed look, to which she gave an indignant  _huff_. "…and in exchange, you have to get a drink with me." Bellamy gave Clarke his signature smirk.  _Please say yes, please say yes, please say-_

"You're kidding, right?" Clarke rolled her eyes at the immature display in front of her, forgetting that she was trying to  _avoid_  getting arrested, not do her best to ensure it. "Here I was thinking you had somehow gained an ounce of maturity, but it looks like you're just as cocky as you were nine years ago! In case you don't remember, we weren't exactly  _pals_  in high school."  _Who does he think he is? He doesn't get to be a complete jackass for_ years _, and then just ask me out and act like everything is fine!_

Bellamy's heart plummeted.  _You idiot! Of course she still hates you. You only ruined her life for four years._ Before Clarke could notice his moment of vulnerability, though, he switched back into his cocky façade. Bellamy widened his smirk. "Don't get your panties in a wad, Princess. I'm just messing with you."  _Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar._ "Look, I'm not going to give you a ticket, but if I see you drag racing against yourself again, I might have to take you downtown." With a wink, Bellamy was strolling back to his squad car and speeding away.

Blood boiling, Clarke brought her car roaring to life and continued down the dirt road, paying slightly more attention to her speed than before. As she drove, she couldn't help but analyze every word spoken between her and the eldest Blake.  _He almost seemed genuine for a moment… Then he had to ruin it._

In middle school, Clarke had possessed the biggest crush on Octavia's older brother. The tall, dark, and handsome Bellamy Blake had the power to turn the brilliant and mature Clarke Griffin into some silly, love struck girl. For three years, Clarke pined after Bellamy, always willing to ignore his bad boy demeanor because she knew the kind and sensible man underneath. Or so she had thought. Upon entering high school, Clarke began to lose faith that Bellamy still possessed such character, what with his constant teasing, pranking, and infuriating nicknames – "Princess" was the worst one of all. It seemed to Clarke as if tormenting her was Bellamy's personal mission, and he was great at it, always able to push just the right buttons and hit her where she was most vulnerable. Clarke's love for Bellamy quickly turned to hate, and the doe-eyed glances and dreams of future romance were replaced by shouting matches and plans for where she could dispose of his body.

Yes, Bellamy Blake had been an integral part of her childhood and teenage years, and though she had managed to ignore him for nine years, he was suddenly a very real part of her life again.  _Especially with those ab- NORMALLY annoying smirks. Which are NOT sexy. At all. Nope. You do not find him, or his muscles, or his hair, or his as- OTHER well-proportioned body parts attractive, do you, Clarke?_ Distracted by her inner monologue, Clarke barely registered that she had pulled into the driveway of her childhood home. She was pulled from her thoughts as she stared at the simple, light blue house. Memories seemed to dance in front of her: Clarke's father teaching her how to ride a bike, her mother sitting on the porch with a glass of lemonade and a first-aid kit; Octavia and Clarke lounging on a huge blanket with their favorite books and smiles on their faces; Clarke giggling as she pelted a young Bellamy Blake in the face with her first snowball. Blinking away tears, Clarke took a deep breath and got out of the car, slowly making her way up to the front door. Before she could even reach the front step, though, the wooden door burst open and Abby barreled into her daughter, wrapping her in a tight embrace. Gravity finally got the best of Clarke's unshed tears, and the women continued to hold each other tightly as if they were afraid they would wake up from a dream if they let go. Finally, Abby released her daughter and beamed at her.

"Clarke, sweetie, I am so glad you're home."

"Me too, mom. Me too."

 


	2. An Interesting Proposition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! Here is a quick update, and I'm planning on having a few more by the end of the week. (End of the day if I'm feeling super motivated.) I hope you enjoy, and Happy New Years!

Clarke sat at her favorite barstool watching her mother put a kettle on the stove. Clarke inventoried the changes her childhood home had undergone over the years: new pictures on the fridge, a darker shade of paint in the kitchen, a smiling Jake Griffin in a nice frame on the wall. There were subtle changes, yes, but it seemed as if only a few days, not nine years, had passed since Clarke had been home. The whistle of the kettle pulled Clarke’s attention back to the present, and Abby prepared two mugs of Clarke’s favorite tea: Egyptian Mint Licorice. Abby joined her daughter at the bar, offering her the steaming beverage. Clarke deeply inhaled the aromatic tea and prepared herself for the questions she knew she would have to answer eventually.  _Here we go…_

“So,” Abby began, “what is your plan?” Abby loved her daughter, immensely, and she was beyond grateful that she was finally on speaking terms with her again. However, the successful doctor couldn’t help her overprotective and over-prepared nature.

“Well, I obviously won’t be accepting the Johns Hopkins residency,” Clarke said with an attempt at humor. Abby’s “Doctor Face” signaled to Clarke that her attempt had failed, and she let out a sigh. “I don’t know, Mom. I mean… my life was all planned out. It was _perfect_.” Clarke swiped at the tears, which had begun to fall without her permission. “I don’t know what I’m going to do now! I’ve spent the past eight years working my _ass_ off to get this job, and now I’ve just given it away, and I don’t know where I’ll live, or how I’ll find work in a hospital, or what I’m supposed to do…” Clarke knew that she was rambling, and gratefully engulfed herself in her mother’s outstretched arms.

“Shhh, sweetie. It’s ok. It’s all going to be ok.” Abby’s heart broke for her daughter as she rubbed comforting circles on her back. Abby knew how hard Clarke had worked to earn the prestigious and extremely competitive position in the Johns Hopkins residency program. Even with Clarke’s impressive credentials, however, Abby knew it would be hard for her to find a position in any credible hospital at this time of-- “Clarke! I just remembered!” _This is perfect! Why didn’t I think of this before?_ Clarke leaned back so she could see her mother’s excited face. “Clarke, someone in our residency program just left on maternity leave! They’ll be gone for a few months, and I know that ARK General Hospital isn’t Johns Hopkins, but you could take her place in the program! At least until you had time to find another residency.” Abby couldn’t help the hopeful expression on her face. _Clarke would be home!_

Clarke thought about her mother’s offer. _Well, it’s not like I have any better offers… AND I suppose it would be nice to not have to pay ridiculous city rent. No other hospital is going to accept me this late in the game anyways, so what the hell?_ Clarke made her decision and grinned at her mother.

“I’ll do it.”


	3. A Knight in Government-Issued Armor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a bit of a long chapter, but I had a lot of fun writing it. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> (Follow me on tumblr at Thatwasnerdy)

Clarke’s tennis shoes squeaked on the bleached tiles of ARK General Hospital as she continued her rounds. Abby had wasted no time in arranging for Clarke to become the newest resident, and both Abby’s position as Chief Medical Officer and Clarke’s talent had allowed her to quickly become one of the top students. Clarke loved being able to help people day in and day out, and she was grateful to throw herself into her work; it helped distract her from the disaster she left behind in Baltimore.

Clarke had been working for 22 hours, and she was grateful that her graveyard shift had proved to be uneventful. Clarke dropped off her stack of patients’ clipboards at the front desk, shooting a smile to Jasper and Monty, her two goofball friends who ran the front desk of the emergency room. “Ok, guys. I’m about to head out!”

“Oh yeah?” Jasper asked, his ridiculous goggles sitting on top of his mop of unruly hair. “Any fun plans? Any hot dates?” He gave Clarke a ridiculous wag of his eyebrows, to which she rolled her eyes in reply.

“Yeah, you know I actually am going for coffee with an extremely hot gentleman at two in the morning after a 22-hour shift.” Clarke answered with fake enthusiasm.

“I don’t know, Clarke,” Monty piped up. “I’m sure someone would be willing to stay up all night with you. Hell, you could go get a drink! Now, if only someone had asked…”

“Screw you, guys!” Clarke threw a pen at the two men giggling like schoolboys and let out a chuckle as she shook her head. Clarke had made the mistake of sharing her encounter with Officer Blake, and the pair hadn’t ceased teasing her about it yet. One of the problems with living in a small town was that _everyone_ knew _everything_ about _everybody_.

The _last_ thing Clarke wanted to do was see Bellamy and the only thing currently on her mind was her bed. _I just need to go to sleep. Except I need to shower. And I haven’t eaten in-_ Clarke checked her watch- _fourteen hours. Oh, God._ Clarke was about to turn around to drop off her coat and turquoise stethoscope in the break room when the _ding_ of the door sounded and a young man pounded into the emergency room with someone draped over his back. “Help! Please somebody help!”

Forgetting about her imminent departure, Clarke leapt into action as nurses loaded the injured boy onto a gurney and wheeled him into a room. Clarke began to assess what seemed to be a head wound. Clarke ordered the nurses to find the x-ray machine and retrieve some supplies as she shined a pen light into the patient’s eyes. “His pupils are responsive, which is a good sign. Surprising, though, with this degree of head injury. What did you say happ-“ Clarke turned to ask the patient’s friend for more details, but the room was empty. Clarke spun around to face the patient and stared directly into the barrel of a gun.

The patient had a twisted smile on his face and got off of the gurney, never once lowering the gun. “Listen here, bitch. Just do what I say and no one gets hurt.” Clarke backed up into the wall and stared in horror as the man came toward her. “You’re going to go get a few things for me, and if you even think about calling the cops,” the man sneered and leaned toward Clarke, his sour breath washing over her face, “I’ll shoot you.”

Clarke had learned about armed robberies of hospitals in medical school – the “patient” tries to force the doctor to get them Morphine, Codeine, Oxycontin, or any other drugs that sold well on the streets. Listening about these heists with little interest in her hospital management class, however, did not come close to the fear and reality of the experience. _Ok, just think Clarke. Act casual. Get him the drugs. Signal Jasper and Monty somehow. Don’t die. Good plan, Griffin._

“Ok, look. I’ll get you whatever you want, just put the gun down.” Clarke tried using her most calming voice, trying to placate the criminal. The man scoffed.

“Yeah, I’ll put this gun down when I have what I’ve come for. Here.” He handed Clarke a scrap of paper listing six different drugs in various quantities. “Go get those for me, and you and I won’t have a problem. Now, where is the pharmacy?”

“It’s down the hall.”

“Perfect. Now you’re going to walk that cute, little ass of yours down that hallway and get me what I want. Act normal. If anyone figures out what's going on here, I’m going to be very upset. My good friend is waiting in the front, and if he doesn’t like what he sees, well, let’s just say you’ll have your work cut out for you this evening stitching up wounds.” Clarke shivered involuntarily at his threat. “I think you and I have reached an understanding. Now, go!” The man spun Clarke toward the door and gave her a shove. With a final glance behind her, Clarke squared her shoulders and stepped into the hall.

The pharmacy was about 200 feet away, which meant that she’d have to pass the front desk to get to it. _That’s it. That’s my opportunity to signal the boys. Now I just have to think of something to make sure they realize something’s wrong._ Clarke strolled down the hallway, clenching her hands into fists to try to get them to stop shaking. When she saw Jasper and Monty, she plastered a fake smile on her face.

“Clarke, did you finish up with that last patient yet?” Monty asked.

“Um, almost done.” Clarke’s voice sounded unnaturally high, and the boys noticed her odd behavior, as did the criminal’s friend sitting in the waiting room. _This is it._  “I’m just ready to get home and curl up on the couch with Bellamy. I miss him.” Clarke gave them another saccharine smile and continued on her way, praying that Jasper and Monty had realized her message, and not the two armed men. 

* * *

Bellamy felt the weight of his eyelids as he completed yet another circle on his night patrol around the city. As a small town cop, Bellamy didn’t see too much action; the usual crime in ARK city was at the hands of high schoolers who mostly stuck to graffiti, underage drinking, and the occasional shoplift. The only real threat was a nasty gang calling themselves the Reapers. Just about every murder, drug, and corruption crime ran could be traced back to John Murphy, the gang's leader. Bellamy glanced at the clock. _3:11._

Noticing his partner’s glance, Officer Nathan Miller spoke up. “It’s been a long day, Blake. You ready to head home?”

“Why? Got something important planned?”

“Yeah. It’s called sleep.” Miller said with a smile.

“Well, that’s not very exciting. Since when are you such a killjoy?”

“Since I married the love of my life. I don’t mind staying out all night on a patrol, but Harper sure as hell does.” Bellamy laughed; he loved the easy rapport he had with his partner. Miller was smart and a hell of a cop- someone who Bellamy trusted to watch his back. He couldn’t help the slight twinge of jealousy, though. _If only someone was waiting for me at home._ Images of movie nights, home-cooked dinners, and little kids with blonde hair running around crept into Bellamy’s conscious, and he shook his head. _What the hell, Blake? Since when are your imaginary kids blonde?_ A certain pain-in-the-ass popped into his head, and he sighed. _Since Clarke Griffin._ Bellamy still felt like an idiot over what had happened when he had pulled Clarke over. Despite Bellamy being a thirty-year-old man, the fierce blonde had the power to reduce him to his stupid, jackass, teenager self.

“ –so then Harper gave birth to a _panda_ and we named him after you, and…”

Bellamy finally heard his partner. “What the hell are you talking about, man?”

Miller burst out laughing, delighted with his partner’s obliviousness. “Stuck in la la land with a certain blonde again, are we?”

Bellamy groaned and started driving toward Miller’s house, eager to get away from his knowing friend who was _still_ laughing. The radio erupted in static, drawing the immediate attention of both officers.

“All officers in the area, we have reports of an armed robbery currently underway at ARK General. Possible hostage situation. Does anyone copy? Over.”

 _Clarke!_ Bellamy snatched the radio. “This is Officer Blake. Officer Miller and I copy, and are en route. Over.”

“Roger that, Blake. Proceed with caution.”

Sirens blaring, Bellamy spun his car around and began speeding toward the hospital.  _Please be ok. Please be ok. Please be ok._

* * *

Clarke gathered the supplies on the criminal’s list, which was made up of basic narcotics that would sell for a pretty penny. Clarke took her time in the pharmacy, praying that her message had gotten through and that someone was on their way. Clarke sighed as she grabbed the final item from the list, preparing herself to face her attacker once more. Clarke stepped into the hallway and began walking back to the examination room when a hand clamped over her mouth and pulled her into an open doorway.

Clarke struggled until a familiar voice spoke into her ear. “Relax, Princess. It’s just me.” A small shiver passed through Clarke at Bellamy’s proximity, and she spun around to face him.

“It took you long enough! Now, where is the backup?” Clarke asked, hands on her hips.

“Yeah, about that. There is no backup. It’s just me and my partner.”

“What? Oh great. I’m going to die.” Clarke shook her head, wondering how she had fallen so low to where her life depended on freaking Bellamy Blake.

“Fear not, Princess. Your fearless knight will save you. Now, stay here.” With an infuriating grin and wink, Bellamy slipped out of the doorway. Not one to follow directions, Clarke crept into the hallway and watched as Bellamy and his partner pulled their guns on the accomplice in the waiting room. “Hands in the air, now!”

Chaos ensued as the thief’s accomplice pulled a gun and fired shots at the two cops. _POP. POP. POP._ As people screamed, Clarke bolted across the room to where Jasper, Monty, and a few other patients were crouching behind the desk. Bellamy and his partner quickly returned fire, taking cover in the hallway from the gunman. Shrapnel exploded around the emergency room, and several people had small cuts from the firefight. Clarke shouted over the noise, “I’m going to get my supplies! I’ll be right back!”

Realizing his impending doom, the gunman turned and fled from the hospital.

“Miller!” Bellamy bellowed.

“I got him!” The cop raced in pursuit of the fleeing criminal.

Exhaling deeply, Bellamy spun back toward Clarke. “See, Princess? I told you there was noth- Clarke?” Bellamy’s heart began to race when he didn’t see the blonde kneeling with the rest of the bystanders. “Clarke?”

“Looking for her?” Out of the shadows, the thief crept forward with his arm around Clarke’s neck and a gun against her temple. Bellamy recognized the leader of the Reapers instantly.

“Murphy. You son of a bitch!” Bellamy’s blood boiled. _No one touches my princess like that! I’m going to kill him. I am going to_ kill _him._

Murphy let out a sinister chuckle. “Now, now, Officer Blake. Let’s play nice. We wouldn’t want something to happen to this poor damsel in distress of yours, would we?” Bellamy made eye contact with Clarke, but instead of the fear he expected, he saw determination and strength. She gave Bellamy a pointed look, and he understood immediately. Drawing his gun, he pointed it at Murphy’s head. Murphy just laughed. “No offense, _officer_ , but I don’t think your aim is _that_ good.”

“You’re right. Mine’s not,” Bellamy smirked, “but _hers_ is.”

Before Murphy could understand what Bellamy had said, Clarke elbowed him as hard as she could in the groin. In a split-second, Murphy’s grip loosened, and Clarke dove out of the way. With Clarke out harm’s way, Bellamy didn’t hesitate to put three rounds in the criminal’s chest. The criminal slowly toppled to the floor, and Bellamy raced over, making sure that Murphy was down for good.

Bellamy grabbed and spoke into the radio on his shoulder. “Officer Miller, do you copy?”

Through the static, Bellamy could hear his partner’s voice loud and clear. “I copy. Suspect is in custody. Over.”

“Copy that. Radio HQ for me, will you? I have a suspect down. No ambulance required, but there is going to be a hell of a lot of paperwork.” Bellamy could hear Miller’s chuckle, even through the radio.

“Roger that, Blake. Nice work.”

* * *

Bellamy sat on one of the gurneys in a makeshift examination room as Clarke dabbed ointment that looked harmless but stung like hell on his cuts. After the shooting ordeal, a swarm of law enforcement showed up to take pictures and figure out what had happened. Clarke had treated the minor scrapes and abrasions of the bystanders and had finally made her way to Bellamy.

“What’s the verdict, doc? How much time do I have left?” Bellamy couldn’t help the stupid smile on his face as Clarke treated his wounds.

“Well, let’s see. Aside from a grazed shoulder and a _massive_ attitude problem, I think you’ll live.” Clarke made eye contact with Bellamy and gave him a small smile. “In all seriousness, thank you, Bellamy.”

“Anytime, Prince- OUCH! That stings!”

“Don’t be such a baby!” Clarke giggled at the ridiculous ~~ly handsome~~ man in front of her.

“I’m not a baby!” Bellamy whined, resulting in a pout, which Clarke couldn’t help but want to kiss off. _What the hell, Griffin? Where did that come from?_ Clarke coughed to cover her embarrassment.

“Well, that should do it, Officer. Just keep an eye on that shoulder. You’ll need to change the bandages at least once every other day, but I’m sure you can get your woman of the night to help you out.” Bellamy winced at Clarke’s dig. _So, she still thinks I’m a man-whore. Great._

“I could… except I don’t really have any at the moment.” Clarke looked at Bellamy with an eyebrow quirked in skepticism.

“Really? The infamous Bellamy Blake has an empty harem at the moment? What, did you sleep your way through the entire town already?” Clarke knew she was being immature, but she couldn’t help it.

“Not everyone.” Bellamy stared directly into Clarke’s eyes, wondering what she saw. _Does she not see that I’m completely in love with her?_

Clarke blushed and looked away. _Get a hold of yourself, Clarke. You are not in middle school anymore._ Clarke’s watch beeped, the sound deafening in the awkward silence. _6 AM._ Clarke sighed, and her shoulders sagged in exhaustion. “Well, I’d better be getting home. I was supposed to leave four hours ago.”

“Wait! Let me give you a ride home!” Bellamy couldn’t help his hopeful expression. Too exhausted to argue, Clarke accepted.

“Yeah, ok.”

* * *

The drive home was quick, mostly because Clarke fell asleep to the hum of the squad car. After pulling into the Griffin’s driveway, Bellamy finally allowed himself to look at the woman sleeping next to him. In slumber, Clarke looked peaceful. _Like a princess._ Bellamy allowed himself one more moment of staring before forcing himself to wake her up. He gently shook her shoulder. “Princess. You’re home now.” Clarke sat up and got out the squad car. She walked around to the open driver’s side window, yawned, and stretched her arms. Bellamy gulped.

“ThankyouBellamy.” Clarke slurred out, still half asleep.

“Of course, Princess.” Bellamy grinned at how adorable the feisty blonde was when sleepy.

“Youknowhowyousaidyouwantedtogetadrink?”

“Yes?” Bellamy couldn’t help but get his hopes up.

“Ithinkyou’veearnedit.” Bellamy chuckled and smiled wildly at Clarke.

“Oh yeah? Are you sure?”

“Mmhmm. I’mkindoftiredrightnowsomaybewecangosomeothertime.” Bellamy beamed.

“It’s a date.”


End file.
